Alice in Demonland

4. The Mad Hatter

Several blocks before we reached the club I could feel the music. It radiated from the ground and caused it to shake. Old movie posters of Avengers, Hunger Games, and The Duff lined a bus stop. We walked past a Barnes and Noble, a store with a weird apple sign, and a grocery store called Winegar's before turning into an alley.

"Stay close," Peter said as though the homeless littering the concrete walls could hurt us.

A man held out his hand. "Spare a dollar?" he asked.

I touched Peter's arm. "Do you have a dollar I can give him?"

He chuckled and kept walking. Apparently, he had no intention of giving the guy any money. "You have been out of touch with the real world for way too long. There should be a class that teaches you how to live out here. You won't be down in the compound forever."

True, but only if we don't die, I thought as we rounded the corner.

It was evident which building housed the club. A long line of people stood waiting to get in. Steve headed toward the end of the line.

"Stick together," Peter said, grabbing him by the shirt. He walked up to the bouncer. The big guy took off his sunglasses even though it was way to dark to be wearing them in the first pace. Peter and the guy talked for a few seconds before the guy put his shades back on. Then proceeded to unhook the velvet rope and let us walk in.

Those still waiting shouted obscenities and grumbled. Someone even threw an empty can. I heard it coming and caught it in mid air, then turned, searching the crowd for the culprit. No one came forward, which was probably for the best, so I tossed the can in the trash and walked inside.

The temperature immediately went from stuffy hot to positively chilly. A light mist sprayed the room giving it a smoky quality. It caused the colorful ceiling lights to linger in the air. Bodies writhed and moved on the dance floor to the beat of some kind of electro-techno music.

Eric and Wendy found us a couple of tables and the rest of the group were seated. A waitress came over and took their orders after checking ids. As far as I knew, Peter was the only one old enough to drink, but he wasn't at the table.

Not that it really mattered whether we were old enough anyway. The demon DNA we possessed made it so alcohol metabolized and burned up before we were affected. It was the same with drugs or so I was told. Our DNA had benefits too. We healed fast and rarely got sick. When we were wounded though, we just had suffer through the pain.

I didn't sit, but stood a little ways off, checking the surroundings. That niggling of being watched still lingered and I worked to figure out why.

Peter was suddenly at my side. "Why don't you go over and hang out with them?"

"I... In a minute." It was hard to explain how little I fit in. "Why aren't you over there?" I decided to turn the question back on him.

"Well, I'm the teacher. Not an equal or an ally, but a superior. Going over there will only make them uncomfortable." He crossed his hands behind his back.

"I guess that makes sense." We weren't friends, though I sure he had some.

Eric and Wendy got up and began dancing, their bodies twining together like two pieces of the same rope. Eric leaned in and kissed her cheek causing Wendy to giggle. Leif flirted with the waitress when she brought back the drinks. Steve and Gilbert were speaking to a couple of girls at the next table. Georgia and Pam chatted and laughed, swaying to the music. It was sweet seeing them laughing, enjoying themselves, and doing something besides training.

A small part of me felt envious.

"But you should totally get over there," Peter continued. "I mean, I know what they call y—" He didn't finish.